


Damian Wayne is Engaged??

by Roarking97



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Crack Treated Seriously, Dabble in the Sin Bin, Damian Wayne Feels, F/M, Guardian Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jason Todd Has Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dick Grayson, Sorry Not Sorry, Tim Drake Has Feelings, Warnings May Change, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roarking97/pseuds/Roarking97
Summary: I had a thought while working on a different Daminette story and couldn't focus until I got this one out. Won't be updating as frequently as the other story, but I enjoyed the thought process I had with this, and I hope you will, too.Damian Wayne is no longer the arrogant little bastard he was when he first arrived under the care of his father, Bruce Wayne. His family has taught him many things, making him push the League of Assassins' training and what occurred during his first ten years of life deep down.Maybe he should have remembered he's also betrothed.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Batfamily Members & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 147
Kudos: 914





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Not giving up on "Saving Angel"! Just couldn't stop thinking about this prompt so here is the first part of this...thing! 
> 
> Marinette is canonically born July 9th, and from what I've read, Damian is born August 9th. In this AU they're 11 months apart, with Damian being older. 
> 
> This might also be a fic where I dip my toes in the sin bin a little...
> 
> Thanks!  
> -Roarking :))

Damian Wayne would say that he has grown quite a lot since being forced to leave the League of Assassins and living with his father. He has almost forgotten all the “kill or be killed” instincts, along with a few other things from the League, that were ingrained into him. Now, eight years since arriving in Gotham, Damian uses the skills he was forced to learn for good.

Or, at least, for the better. Hey, a vigilante is still a vigilante.

Even his Father and brothers acknowledge how much he has changed since he was taken under, essentially, all of their wings. Dick Grayson taught him how to relax a little, how to find enjoyment in things; Damian personally enjoys painting his memories. Jason Todd taught him how to deny the instincts of the League; after Todd had been submerged in the Pits, he struggled with his bloodlust. Together they were able to overcome their twin urges. Tim Drake taught Damian how to balance work, school, and _other_ work; and in return, as well as an apology for trying to maim him, Damian taught Drake some grounding and meditation to re-center when responsibilities and obligations became too much.

Damian’s father, Bruce Wayne, _Batman_ , taught Damian that life is a precious flame and should not be snuffed out. Justice is not vengeance. _No killing._ That was the longest lesson for the Heir of the Demon’s Head to grasp. It took nearly three full years for Damian to understand his father’s words.

Then, there was Alfred Pennyworth, who for all intents and purposes, was Damian’s and his brothers’ grandfather. Alfred taught Damian how to handle pressure. How not to react to startling news. How to remain composed during any and all situations.

Finally, a few days from turning eighteen, Damian Wayne could confidentially say that the League was behind him.

\--~~--

Damian was going through his paintings. Alfred had told him he needed to organize them better and have a proper place and way to store them. Years of paintings, of memories were in this room. His personal art studio.

Paintings of the Gotham city skyline.

Paintings of the Wayne Gardens.

Paintings of his family at the dinner table.

Paintings of Titus.

Of Alfred the Cat.

Of Batcow.

Damian could see how his skill had improved over the years. Canvas after canvas after canvas, the memories these paintings held would be cherished by him.

As he moved a small stack of his earliest paintings aside, he was momentarily surprised to see a pile of papers underneath. On the papers were an assortment of sketches, and as Damian looked at them, recognition burned through him.

On the papers were scenes from his time with the League. Sketches of his room.

His weapons.

His mother, Talia.

His grandfather, Ra’s.

Trainers who had tried to defeat him.

They were all dated within the first month of Damian coming to live with his father. They stirred memories Damian had hoped were long forgotten. He moved to stack them neatly and put them away to remain hidden when a smaller piece of paper drifted down from his pile.

Grimacing, he held the sketch up and froze. The sketch was dated his first night at the Wayne Manor. It was faded and grey. The only real color on the sheet was a light blue.

Damian stared at the face of a young girl. Blue eyes in the faded face. The features were unidentifiable, but the eyes pulled at something in his mind. He stared and stared, absentmindedly rubbing over one of the many scars littering his body; specifically the scar that resides on his left ring finger. He was so focused on the sketch of the young girl with the blue eyes, he barely reacted to Drake entering his personal studio.

He stared at the scar on his ring finger, brows furrowed as he concentrated on unlocking the memory.

A scar from when a pact was made. A contract. A promise.

Dread pooled in his stomach as his eyes widened. He stared up at Drake.

“I think I am engaged.”

\--~~--

Drake stared at Damian, mouth open and eyes wide. Damian remains impassive, externally.

Internally, his is a mess, every alarm is going off in his brain. How does one forget something like that? The picture of the blue-eyed girl burning a hole in his shirt pocket where it sat folded up.

“What? What do you mean you think you’re engaged? What?” Drake practically shouts at him. His hands push through his hair over and over again, as he paces back and forth in front of him.

“Drake, I can explain…I think,” he said in a grimace. Drake stopped his pacing and just gave him a weird look.

“You know, you don’t sound so sure. But sure, explain what you mean by _engaged_.” He said so irritatingly it made Damian’s eyes narrow. He made a cut it out motion as he shushed his brother. Damian strode over to the door, and with a quick check to make sure no one else was around, promptly closed and locked it. He turned to face Drake, and with a resigned sigh, showed him his left hand.

Drake just stared at it for a moment before throwing his hands up. “What am I looking at here, Demon Spawn?”

Damian grit his teeth at the nickname before wiggling his ring finger. “Do you see the scar on it?”

Drake squinted his eyes, taking his pinky finger and lightly tracing the near imperceptible scar that runs along the length of the finger. Drake looks back up and nods.

“Okay, now, I’m not positive it is still in effect, but the scar is from a betrothal ceremony when I was,” he trails off and rubs his forehead in thought, “I guess I had just turned six? I was told that the union would bring great things to the League. It was forced on me, and I assume her-and Drake, I don’t think she was an assassin. From what I remember, which apparently isn’t a lot, she was so small. Much smaller than any child assassin I had ever seen. But she wasn’t….like me. She wasn’t dark. Angry.”

“Narcissistic,” Drake mutters. Damian scowls at him and Drake rolls his eyes before gesturing for Damian to continue.

“Talia and Ra’s had said, I think, she was from an Order of some sort. Essentially a Princess? Gah! This is so frustrating that I can’t remember this shit!” Damian has now taken up pacing and rubbing his right hand through his hair, hoping to jump start his brain for the memories that should be there.

Drake, seeing his brother a few minutes away from losing it, decides to help. “When you said you aren’t sure it is still effective, what did you mean by that?”

Damian stops his pacing and gives his brother a look that screams _are you serious?_ “I am no longer Damian al Ghul. I am Damian Wayne. Ra’s is dead. I am not the new Grandmaster of the League of Assassins. Keep up, Drake. Seriously.” Damian shakes his head before he continues his pacing.

“Well, what about her and her organization? If she was still involved, wouldn’t they try to honor the deal? Would they get in contact with Talia? _Could_ they get in contact with Talia?”

Both boys stared at each other, mouths open and eyes wide before Damian narrowed his eyes as several things came back to him.

“One,” he started, “everything said does not leave this room.” He paused, waiting for Drake to nod. “Two, if the betrothal is still binding, which we better pray to any deity we can find that it’s not-”

“Why?” Drake asks, and Damian can only stare at his brother and slowly let out a breath of frustration.

“The only way to end a League of Assassins’ betrothal is if one or both parties die, meaning there could be a possibility if she refuses me or I her…” Damian trailed off, hoping his supposed genius brother would get the picture. Damian clears his throat to continue his points, “ _if_ the betrothal is still in effect and is binding, we will know on the eve of my eighteenth birthday. Either Talia or one of _her_ members will come and find me-and don’t ask how they can, they just will.” Damian cut his brother off before he could interrupt him again.

“Do you remember her name? Do you remember anything at all about your supposed betrothed?” Drake asks.

Damian stares off for a moment, while his mind presents an image of a little girl, smiling shyly at Damian, with one of her front teeth missing and a constellation of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

“Malak…malak is the only thing that comes to mind,” he mutters before turning toward his brother, ignoring the way Drake stands with his mouth agape.

\--~~--

Two days later and Damian is now celebrating his eighteenth birthday.

And he and Drake have been on edge all day.

Drake broke two coffee mugs after being startled by Grayson in the morning, and Grayson again in the early afternoon.

Damian had almost broken Todd’s wrist when he clapped him on the shoulder in a brotherly move meant to convey comradery.

All day their family had been giving them weird looks, and especially giving them to Damian, because if they were being honest… Tim Drake is always kind of jumpy.

Now the boys sat at dinner, trying to enjoy a meal while also remaining hyperaware of their surroundings. They were so hyperaware of their surroundings, they basically missed the looks their family was giving them.

“So,” Damian’s father starts, causing both Damian and Drake to tense slightly, “any reason you two have seemed, well, off the past few days?” Damian looks up into his Father’s piercing stare and decides to fold _just a little_.

“I was organizing my studio and came across some pieces when I first arrived to be placed under you care, Father. It has brought up some…unsatisfactory memories. I also happened to confide in Drake about some of these troubling memories…because he was there.”

Damian can feel every eye of his brothers, of his father, and even Alfred on him. He feels targeted and embarrassed and he hates it. He is so focused on the feelings inside him, and his family is so focused on him, that they miss a certain assassin entering through the front door like she owns the place.

\--~~--

The Wayne family make their way into the seating/living room to congregate for the remainder of the evening. Drake and Damian are even feeling slightly relaxed, there has been no sign of-

Shit, he spoke too soon.

There in all her unfortunate glory, sat Talia, sipping on a glass of Father’s _Louis XIII_ cognac. Everyone in the room stiffened at her appearance. Even Father stilled and straightened his back slightly.

“Hello, _son_. Happy birthday.” She rose gracefully, like a panther waiting to strike down its prey. She trailed her eyes over Damian’s family, lingering on both Todd and his Father before settling back to Damian.

Father is the one who speaks first, “come to gift me another child, Talia? Have any more surprises for myself and my family?” His voice is deep and gravelly, and Damian idly registers he is in Batman mode.

“Unfortunately, darling, this trip is for our _son_ ,” she says the word like a knife, trying to cut through the resolve that is Damian Wayne.

Grayson decided to speak up next. “You haven’t come for any other birthdays of Damian’s,” he starts, and all Damian can think in that moments is _seriously? That is thing you focus on?_ “If you’ve come to try and take him back to the League…” Grayson trails off, letting his partial threat hang in the air.

Talia bobs her head back and forth, like she is contemplating bringing Damian back to the League with her, and even though he knows why she is here, he can’t help but feel that small ball of panic that decides to focus on the what if. Talia throws her head back and lets out a laugh that has Damian pulling the corners of his mouth down.

“I am not here to take anybody back with me,” she says slyly, “in fact, I come bearing a gift for my darling _son_.” She moves to take a device out her pocket, and every member of the family moves to get ready for an attack. Talia raises her eyebrows at them all in an unimpressed motion before fully removing a communication device, not unlike theirs. “Bring in the Heir’s _gift_.”

Talia smirks at all of them before directing her gaze to her right, and then they are all looking to where Talia is looking. They first see two League members, dressed in the simple and usual black robes and loose pants the League provides. They were fairly large, though; Damian assumes they are used more for brute force in combat rather than stealth.

Behind them, however, there is a petite figure hidden from the Wayne family’s view. Drake is suddenly tapping his back repeatedly, but all Damian can do is stare at the figure slowly and gracefully stand behind Talia, with her bluebell eyes down.

She is dressed in the traditional Chinese engagement qipao, however, instead of bright red and beautiful gold patterns weaved throughout, she is dressed in a deep red with pitch black patterns trailing across her body.

Damian has to swallow thickly, because _this_ is the small little girl with the shy smile and missing tooth in his memories? She turned out beautiful. Her dark navy colored hair is swept up in an intricate braid, her delicate features practically glowing in the pale light of the seating room, her long and full dark lashes fanning out from her lowered lids, and her lips are slightly shiny, causing Damian’s eyes to wander there a few times before _respectfully_ flickering his eyes down her qipao. It hugs her curves, making her petite hourglass figure stunning. There is a slit that starts at her upper mid-thigh that exposes a creamy toned leg on one side.

Talia clears her throat and his Malak stiffens before slowly walking toward him. She bows with a small tilt of her head, keeping her eyes lowered as not to meet anyone’s gaze. “It is an honor to meet you, again, Heir Damian al Ghul.” Her sweet and clear voice seems to resonate within the room and Damian and his family watch in an awed shock. She raises her head and her eyes to his and he is struck by the intensity of the blue that peer up at him.

“I present to you the Grand Guardian of the Order of Guardians and Miraculous Court: Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Talia says from her spot by the drink cart, and so helpfully adds, “Damian’s betrothed.” Talia smirks before turning to walk out the Manor and calling out to _Marinette_ , “I be here until tomorrow, get to know your future in-laws,” a pause, then, “and your future husband.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette, Marinette, Marinette, Marinette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's bday is July 9th, and what I found online says Damian's bday is August 9th. Marinette is eleven months younger than Damian.

Marinette knew she was special. She’s known for as long as she could remember. She wasn’t being conceited when she thought about how special she was, she was merely stating facts. Being special was a weight on her chest and the need for perfection a noose around her neck.

She was different than the other children in her école maternelle. The other children did not go away every summer to a temple in Tibet to train with one of the most powerful beings in the world. The other children did not have to grow up and have to possess other worldly maturity before the start of l'école primaire. They did not have anything to be other than children.

But Marinette did. Marinette was the odd one out. She was special. She was chosen. She was _blessed_.

And Marinette has always hated it. Her first few years of life were relatively normal, she guessed. That is until her fifth birthday when it became known what was to be asked of her and her family.

She was born with the mark of the True Ladybug on the back of her neck, as well as the Grand Guardian ring. A red circle the size of an American nickel with five black spots inside, and a pure white ring made of the Guardian language surrounding it. She was “extra special”, as her mother would say.

Her mother, the former True Dragon from the Order of Guardians and Miraculous Court would always tell Marinette that she was so _proud_ of her. Her father, a temporary wielder of the Ox, would hug her tightly and often praise Marinette of her progress. Marinette relished in their pride , but in reality, Marinette knew she had no other choice. She’s known she’ll never have a choice since her fifth birthday.

When _they_ started preparing Marinette to become the sole savior of the Order and the Court. She was going to be offered in exchange of protection from some very bad people. She was to unite the League of Assassins with the Order of Guardians and Miraculous Court.

Via a fucking marriage contract.

Marinette stares at her hands, gloved in intricate black lace, with her ring fingers exposed. She trails her gloved index finger along the scar on her left ring finger. She remembers the ceremonial knife slicing her finger. She remembers the part of the ritual _after_ the Heir had left the room.

It was then that her perception of the Order and the Court shifted. They still did things for good, but there was an underlying fear that fueled their actions, fear of the League of Assassins. It was also then when she lost a little bit of her spirit. The people who were supposed to protect her, shield her from the negativity of the world at that age had thrust her into the hands of the League.

Marinette tried her best to temper her anger and swallow her frustrations as she stands behind two huge men, members from the League in the darkened hallway of _Wayne_ manor. She lets out a quick puff of air through her nose in a quiet scoff. _He_ was able to escape the League. _He_ got to live a somewhat normal life. Well, however normal a son of a billionaire/vigilante can be. _He_ has gotten the chance to be Damian Wayne, not Damian al Ghul.

Marinette was certainly _not_ bitter, thank you very much.

One of the League members in front of her stiffens, a finger in his ear as he listens to _Mistress_ Talia. He nods to his companion and the companion reaches to grab her arm. Marinette swats his hand away and sends the man a glare. They nod to each other before moving toward the formal sitting room. Marinette keeps her eyes lowers, staring at the League members’ legs as they move.

She’s preparing to see the boy, or man, who had the coldest green eyes she had ever seen. She remembers smiling up at him before the betrothal ceremony, and him just staring down at her.

She spent a total of 17 minutes with him, and he walked out, never for to be seen again by her. However, Marinette was never allowed to forget about him, from the League _ambassadors_ at the Temple and her home in Paris, as well as the elders at the Order and the Court.

They enter the warmly lit room and Marinette can feel _his_ eyes on her. She tries not the grit her teeth. _That’s right,_ Heir _, I hope you remember me, because I was not_ permitted _to forget you._

Mistress Talia clears her throat, catching Marinette off guard slightly. She moves forward, past Mistress Talia to stand in front of where she can feel _his_ eyes on her. She bows her head just a little, going through the motions of offering respect. “It is an honor to meet you, again, _Heir Damian al Ghul_.”

_You are not Damian Wayne to me. You are Damian al Ghul, Heir to the Demon’s Head._

_Demon._

_Demon._

_Demon._

She raises her eyes, her thoughts going wild in the midst of her anger and frustration, then her brain and thought process stall.

Green eyes meet her gaze, so clear and somewhat soft appear to be looking into her soul. Emeralds meet sapphires and Marinette is left reeling.

_This is the Demon from my memories?_

Marinette is vaguely aware of Mistress Talia’s voice from behind her, introducing her to the Heir’s family as well as sharing her title and status. All she can do is stare at those emerald eyes. She was sure those eyes were cold and unyielding, but now…

The members of the League and Mistress Talia are leaving, and they are leaving Marinette here to become reacquainted with the Heir.

“Mistress Marinette?” a calming voice says from the doorway. Marinette turns to face an older looking man. _Alfred Pennyworth, butler but also Grandfather. Agent A during nightly activities._

Marinette bows her head in acknowledgement, as the voices of her trainers and tutors yell in her head to maintain her image as a representative of the Order and the Court.

“Master Pennyworth, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Marinette is vaguely aware of the whispers behind as her mind is spiraling. She has been forced to prepare for this for over ten years. She will not fail, she will not give the League any reason to rescind their promise of peace with the Order and the Court.

“Would you like to meet the family? Or would you like to retire for the evening?” Alfred’s gentle voice feels like a warm hug that makes her feel somewhat relaxed, despite the many eyes on her back.

“I would like to make proper introductions, then, if you could, show me where I could rest until the morning, it would be greatly appreciated, Master Pennyworth.” She sends a soft smile toward the man, to which he nods in return.

“Of course, I shall appear again when I am needed.” With that, he walks to somewhere else in the huge house.

Marinette takes a deep breath before turning around to face the remaining men of the room. Her eyes flit across their faces, mentally identifying them as her eyes take in their details. She bows her head again, lowering her eyes at the same time. “It is an honor to meet my betrothed’s family. Master Wayne, Master Grayson, Master Todd, and Master Drake.” She makes eye contact with each man as she says their name, lingering on Jason Todd, _interesting, Pit Madness resides within him_. “I look forward to getting to know each of you as I integrate my life to Gotham City.”

Bruce Wayne clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the sense of déjà vu he is so obviously feeling. “Why don’t we all sit down? I’m sure there are several of us who would like to ask some questions. Would that be alright?” She’s not really sure who he is asking exactly, so she withholds answering.

The men move as an absolute unit, displaying their ability to read one another and make unspoken decisions together. Watching them makes her miss her old team as they faced two corrupted Miraculous wielders. They disbanded a week after the Butterfly and Peacock retrieval, no longer needing to be a team. After the disbandment, the weight of responsibilities on Marinette’s shoulders almost doubled as she became the actual Grand Guardian after Master Fu.

The unit makes their way to the library/study, which is in a different part of the house. Marinette waits for the men to take their seats. She watches as Bruce sits in a leather love seat, his large frame taking up most of the space. Richard, A.K.A. Dick, Timothy, A.K.A. Tim, and Jason all take a seat in the matching three-seater sofa. The Heir takes a seat in the sole chair there and Marinette has to refrain from grinding her teeth. _Of course he takes a seat where I can’t sit next to him. It’s like he wants me to fail at my job here._

Steeling her nerves, she walks up to Tim, “Master Drake? Might I borrow that decorative pillow that is behind you?” She gives a small, non-threatening smile toward the man who is two years her senior. His pale blue eyes gaze up at her, a slight blush blooming onto his cheeks. He nods and reaches for the pillow and gingerly hands it over to her. Marinette bows her head in gratitude, “thank you, Master Drake.”

Marinette turns to face where the Heir sits alone, making brief eye contact before lowering her eyes to watch the floor as she moves. She kneels slightly to place the pillow on the floor, on the left side of the single chair before sitting down on the pillow in _seiza_ , making sure her knees are placed firmly together and placing her gloved hands on top of her thighs. She keeps her eyes lowered, not wanting to make eye contact with any of the men in the room, even though she can feel their gazes burning her skin, especially the Heir’s. His is the most intense.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, was it? Why are sitting on the floor?” Dick asks, concern lacing his voice.

“I am to sit beside my betrothed, and if he desires to sit in a chair, then I am to sit at his feet.” Marinette states, for it is a simple fact the League and the Order ingrained into her head.

All at once, every man in the room is scrambling to get out of their seats, including the Heir. Bruce is no longer sitting on the love seat, and the three brothers are standing as well. The Heir’s hand is in front of her face, the faint scar on his ring finger flashing in the light.

“Please, Malak, sit with me on the loveseat. It will be far more comfortable than the floor.” The Heir’s voice is soft as he murmurs to her alone and her mind pauses over the nickname. Angel? Is that how he remembers her?

“Thank you, Heir Damian. I appreciate you and your family’s kindness toward me. I do apologize for the inconvenience.” She slips her hand into his and he gently pulls her up. They make their way to the loveseat. The Heir sits first, and Marinette follows, sitting in a similar style as before: knees together and gloved hands on top of her thighs.

Bruce now sits in the single chair and the brothers are back on to the couch. Bruce is the next one to start the conversation. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, I hate to ask this, but how exactly are you and Damian betrothed?” He seems uncomfortable, and according to the files she read on him it would make sense. Emotionally stunted, she supposed.

“Simple, Master Wayne, when I was a small girl, the League of Assassins found the Order of Guardians and Miraculous Court. They threatened to kill everyone in order to take control over what the Order and Court protect. My predecessor, Master Fu, offered a compromise. A treaty of their choosing. Ultimately, a marriage contract was selected and due to certain circumstances, I was chosen. The League would get a direct access to the Order and the Court, and, in return, the Order and the Court would get protection from outside threats-the League included.” Marinette was being somewhat vague with her explanations, but these men are not to be trusted, yet. “Heir Damian and I went through the League’s betrothal ceremony when I was five years old,” she shows the scar on her left ring finger, “and after, I went through the Order and the Court’s bonding ceremony with Mistress Talia and Master Ra’s al Ghul’s supervision. They had some… interesting suggestions to implement as a form of insurance.” Marinette stifles a shudder, but she can’t stop the way her face pales.

She can feel the Heir’s eyes on her, but she won’t acknowledge him. She is afraid that if she meets his gaze again, the same cold eyes from the first meeting will be staring back at her, _and_ she’s afraid if the softer eyes are there, too.

Jason speaks next, “What kinda insurance are you talking about?”

She tightens her lips, pressing them into a thin line. She shakes her head, “I’m so sorry, Master Todd. I may only speak about that with those who were present during the bonding ceremony, or with my betrothed in private.”

None of the men look happy about that, oops. Dick in particular looks like he wishes to say something. “Master Grayson?” Marinette looks at the eldest brother, and he shifts his weight slightly, before nodding.

“Yes, uh, why do you call everyone ‘Master’ and ‘Mistress’? Aren’t you the Grand, uh, Guardian?” He looks down sheepishly.

“It is a sign of respect for my betrothed’s family, it shall also extend to any Heir Damian deem worthy for friendship, such as Master Kent.” She offers the brother a gentle smile and a small nod of her head.

The brothers and Bruce are now staring intently at the Heir, so she figures it is time for her to head to bed and rest for tomorrow. She stands and turns to the Heir. “Heir Damian, I believe it is time for me to retire for the evening, I shall speak to you tomorrow.” Marinette then turns to the remaining men in the room, “good night and pleasant dreams to you all.” She bows her head after sending them all a smile and moves toward the door. The Heir’s eyes are burning as she walks away, but as Alfred appears in the doorway, a sense of calm washes over her.

“Are you ready for bed, Mistress Marinette?” Alfred asks, his kind eyes gentle.

“I believe so, Master Pennyworth. Thank you for you and your family’s generosity.” Alfred only nods and moves to show her the way to the room she’ll be staying.

“I have provided you some pajamas, I’m afraid they will be a bit too large for you, though.”

As they make their way down the corridor, several voices are shouting behind them, quickly rising in volume as they try to talk over one another. Marinette smirks at Alfred’s back.

“That will be most acceptable, Master Pennyworth,” she mutters.

Marinette can hear the amusement in his own voice, “most acceptable, indeed.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!!! AND I'M HERE TO STAY!!! 
> 
> ENJOY THE FILLERISH CHAPTER WHILE I GET BACL INTO THE SWING OF THINGS WITH PLOT AND EVERYTHING ELSE!
> 
> also, please see bottom note for ages!
> 
> -Roarking :)))

Tim Drake stares at the back of Marinette Dupain-Cheng as she follows Alfred out of the study. She is so soft spoken and so fucking pretty it practically hurts him. When she looked at him his heart practically leapt into his throat and tried to choke the ever-loving shit out of him.

Without his consent, his eyes drop down to her ass and-

_Oh my god, that is the prettiest peach I have ever seen._

Tim shakes his head and turns to his brother. Damian looks like he’s in a state of shock. In fact, everyone in this room looks to be in the same state.

Dick keeps his eyes trained on Bruce, perhaps waiting for an explosion that is bound to come.

Jason is practically drooling over the poor girl. He tends to have a thing with delicate things. Tim likes to think it comes from reading all those classic novels.

And Damian… Damian looks like he swallowed something so sour that it’s burned a hole in the lining of his stomach.

And then the chaos explodes.

“What the hell, Demon Spawn?!”

“Bruce, please calm down, you’re going to have an aneurysm at this rate.”

“Damian, explain this now, please.”

“I can’t believe this. She’s here and it is so fucking strange.”

“Hey!” Tim shouts to gather everyone’s attention. “We are fucking Waynes. We can handle this without causing more trouble, alright?” Tim makes eye contact with each man in the room, and when he reaches Damian, the poor boy sinks down in the loveseat, and rubs his face and groans.

“I can’t believe I forgot about this, about _her_.” Damian says from behind his hands.

“Damian,” their Father starts, “do we need to be in contact with the lawyers to get you and her out of this?” He sounds so earnest, but if what Damian told him the other day is correct, there isn’t much they can do to help.

Damian sighs, before shaking his head no. “Unfortunately, as I told Drake, the only way out of a League betrothal is through death of one or both parties. Unless our lawyers plan on disposing of myself or of,” he swallows, “Marinette? I fear we will have to play this game of Talia’s for the time being.”

“Am I the only one who noticed how insanely attractive she is?” Jason grumbles. “Like, it is so unfair that she is apparently all Demon Spawn’s. Did you see her eyes, Dick? I know you’ve got Kori, but come _on_ man! Tell me you saw what I saw! Timmers? What about you? She is so gaddamn gorgeous it makes my brain hurt.”

Tim opens his mouth to agree with Jason, but after a glance at Damian quickly has him snaping his mouth closed again.

Damian is practically fuming. His fists are clenching and his jaw is ticking. “Todd, it is quite obvious that Marinette is a lady- basically royalty to an organization that has been around for several hundred years- and you should treat her as such. With respect and honor.” Damian then glances at Tim and narrows his eyes. “Same to you, Drake. Respect and honor.”

And with that, Damian Wayne stalks off to his room, leaving behind several confused men in his wake.

\--~~--

_Five-year-old Marinette smiles up at the boy not much older than her. He glares back at her, a frown fixed upon his face. Her Maman said they were going on an important trip, but never told her why. She thought they were going to go back to the place where Bàba Fu lives with all his friends and family._

_Instead, Maman brought Marinette here, in this dark place. Her Maman said she was going to make a new friend, but after glancing back at the boy beside her (who is still frowning), Marinette feels like her Maman may not be telling her the truth._

_Is her Maman a liar like Chloe? Marinette frowns slightly before catching herself. The voice of her Papa sweeping through her mind._

‘Remember mon chou, the easiest way to make a new friend is to smile wide.’

_Marinette fixes her bestest smile back into place, gently touching the gap her front left tooth left with her tongue._

_Before Marinette can say anything to the boy next to her, a scary lady walks in, with her parents behind her and several other big men. Marinette’s smile freezes and fear grips her heart when she sees her parents’ eyes are red and wet._

_Has she been a bad girl? Is she in trouble? What has Marinette do-_

_The boy next to Marientte speaks roughly to the scary lady, who smiles at him and places a finger in front of her lips._

_Marinette tries to understand what is going on around her, but too many people are talking and not in French or in Chinese. She feels so lost, and she keeps looking for comfort from her new ‘friend’ but he seems to be even angrier than before. He now outright snarls at Marinette, his pretty green eyes cold and scary._

_He makes Marinette want to cower, makes her want to run and hide behind her Papa’s strong legs. But she can’t move. She is frozen here._

_Marinette panics a little when the scary lady walks up to both her and the scary boy, holding what looks like a knife. Marinette knows she isn’t supposed to play with those, she could get hurt! Why is the scary lady grabbing their hands?_

‘As the second under Ra’s al Ghul, I sanctify the blessing of this future union between Heir Damian al Ghul and future Grand Guardian of the Order of Guardians and Miraculous Court. This future union shall provide for both our peoples. We, who are present here today to lay witness on this contract, call upon those who have come before us to guide this blade and the chosen’s blood to weave together a bond like no other.’

_Marinette isn’t sure how she knows what scary lady is saying, but she does. Marinette is also not sure how scary lady is able to cut both her finger and this Damian’s finger so fast!_

_Marinette watches in one part fascination and two parts fear as her blood runs down her finger and mingles with the blood of the boy, Damian. She almost jumps out of her skin when their blood sizzles when they connect on the ground._

_Scary lady is now yelling at some of the scary men and waving her hand at Damian. The frowning boy yells something back and stalks toward the door that leads away from this scary place._

_Marinette isn’t sure she’s smiling anymore, but now showing how scared she truly is as she stares after the boy. The boy who gets to leave._

_He looks behind him once, and Marinette thinks she saw something other than a frown on his face, but soon he’s being lead elsewhere._

_Marinette looks back to the scary lady, who is even scarier when she smiles._

‘Now, little Guardian. It is time to make sure you never stray from my son.’ _Scary lady says, while she strokes Marinette’s hair. It is almost a comforting gesture before scary lady is grabbing a handful of hair and yanking her to a different room._

_Marinette’s screams get lodged in her throat._

_She wants to call out to her Maman._

_She wants to call out to her Papa._

_She wants to call out for even Damian._

_But fear has a tight grip on her throat and on her hair. No noise can escape Marinette._

_Only tears escape._

_And as Marinette is being lead to a room that scares her even more than the first, she can only watch as her Papa holds her Maman as they both cry. As they do nothing to help Marinette away from this scary lady who has a hold of her hair as well as her throat. As they watch their only daughter being dragged to make sure_ ‘she never strays from her son.’

_It was the beginning of Marinette Dupain-Cheng hating her life._

_Of hating being_ ‘special’ _._

_Of hating being the only one with this curse._

_Of hating the scary lady._

_And especially, hating Damian al Ghul._

_And when the screams finally tear out of her throat, no one is there to save her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGES? AGES!
> 
> Marinette: just turned 17 a month before Damian turned 18.  
> Tim: recently turned 19.  
> Jason: 21  
> Dick: 27  
> Bruce: 48  
> Alfred: Age is but an illusion  
> Luka: 20  
> Adrien: 18


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Jason and how he and Marinette will progress.

Jason vaguely recognizes what he is doing isn’t right. He knows he should turn around and walk away. He knows he should leave and probably not come back for a while. But as he listens to the girl toss and turn in her room, he knows he should leave, but he can’t.

There is something about this girl that draws him in like a moth to a flame.

**_He doesn’t even know why the Madness said those things about her earlier this evening; Jason reads classic literature and if he were to ever find a girl as beautiful as she, he would treat her an Austen heroine as she deserves. Not talk about her so aggressively._ **

Jason knows he is probably broken beyond repair, that is why he finds himself now with this new obsession over this girl.

Marinette.

_Damian’s fiancé._

He forgot about this girl, and she comes in here all perfect and beautiful and-

**_No! This is not right! We are protectors, not coveters!_ **

Something dark inside of Jason wants her. Wants to possess this girl who seems to provide warmth to the icy tundra that is Jason’s mind.

**_She needs help! Not whatever the hell this is! Stop! Go back to your room! Or better yet, leave the city for a while! Go! Please!_ **

The desperate voice of Jason Todd echoes in the dark recesses of the Madness’ mind. This girl is the answer to his prayers and yet he refuses because of what?

She _belongs_ to someone else?

She can belong to us!

Hell, we can share!

**_No! No no no no! The moment she walked into this house, why did you come forward? We’ve done so well on maintaining our balance, so we are acting like a blood thirsty crazy man! We had this! What the fuck happened?_ **

As Jason and the Madness watch the girl, this creature that radiates light, a prickling sensation starts at their temple, and it slowly spreads across their forehead and reaches to the other temple.

“I know you are there, Master Todd. You may come into my room and we can have a chat.”

Jason startles, but the Madness only grins in satisfaction. The Madness knows on a deeper level what this girl can and will do, it just needs Jason to stay complacent, for now, so it can be accomplished.

“Yes,” Jason’s voice echoes in the quiet room, but the resonance is off slightly, “let us have a chat, Grand Guardian.”

And with those words, Jason and the Madness enter Marinette’s temporary room and close the door behind them.

\--~~--

Marinette could feel the Pit Madness in Jason; and she knew unless she did something to appease the monster within, it would consume what made Jason Todd himself. Consume until there was only the Madness left.

And while she despised her gifts, Marinette had a deep sense of compassion and kindness she could not abandon. Even now, looking into the eyes of not a kind soul, but of the eyes of a creature slowing eating away at its host…

All Marinette could feel was hope that what she could do would help Jason.

Jason and the Madness within him stood with their back against her bedroom door; the Madness gleamed excitedly, almost completely taking Jason over, but she could just barely make out him still being under there.

The man within the Madness.

Marinette indicated to the space across from her on the floor, “please, sit across from me and give me your hands.”

Jason hesitated, but the Madness lurched forward, eager to please and to begin the process. Once they were settled and had their hands outstretched, palms facing the ceiling did Marinette finally get a good look inside of the man.

The Madness within him had almost completely deteriorated his mental capacity for mercy and compassion; however, it seems as though his sheer will-power and determination were reinforced over time. Good, there is hope.

Marinette gently places her palms onto Jason’s and whispered a brief incantation, one that allows the man to surface fully and for the Madness to recede almost completely.

There was a sharp intake of breath and Marinette smiled to herself.

“Holy fucking shit, what the fuck did you just do? I can think clearly for the first time in years!” Jason exclaimed loudly.

“Shh,” Marinette admonishes, “I can temporarily relieve you of the Pit Madness while I am in contact with you physically. I can work on finding a permanent solution while I am here for the foreseeable future, it is my people’s fault the Pits even exist.”

Jason cocks his head to the side in confusion before shaking his head, “I don’t care whose fault it is; you can fix me! No wonder the Madness inside of me was going crazy for you! You ease me and the Madness like no other, ever.” He gives her a huge grin, clear blue eyes shining at her through think dark lashes.

Marinette clears her throat, “Yes, well you can’t tell anyone just yet. I need to make sure I get it right and it could take several sessions.”

He nods along, all while maintaining physical contact with their hands.

If either of them are gripping a little tighter than normal, they don’t say.

“I will explain it more, say tomorrow night? Do you think you could come by again?” Marinette asks.

“Oh, hell yes. If you can fix me, I will forever be in your debt.”

“I don’t need any more people indebted to me; it is my pleasure to help you, Jas-“ she cuts off with a gasping sound and curling in on herself briefly, “apologies, Master Todd.” She smiles up at him, hoping he doesn’t see the sheen of tears in her eyes from the pain of almost breaking a rule.

He does, and he frowns at her. She waves him off and gently ushers him up and out of her room.

“Until tomorrow night, Master Todd,” she murmurs.

“Goodnight, Marinette. I hope you have pleasant dreams.”

And with that, Marinette is left alone with her thoughts.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [How am I supposed to fit that under name in legal documents?!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807347) by [Raven_Frost_21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Frost_21/pseuds/Raven_Frost_21)




End file.
